


shooting stars

by flintandtinder



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Cardan is a Romantic, F/M, Post The Queen of Nowhere, Shooting Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintandtinder/pseuds/flintandtinder
Summary: “Ah, yes,” comes the low drawling voice that sends a shiver down my spine. “It was your rudeness I fell in love with.”From a distance, one of the guards laughs, and tries to cover it with a cough.“I thought it was the way I held a knife to your throat.” I swallow, and cut my eyes toward the guards that have followed us to the rooftop. “Send them away.”
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 30
Kudos: 171
Collections: Jurdannet Folktober 2020, favorite on TFOTA





	shooting stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at a Jurdan fic! I wrote this for the first day of the Folktober event on tumblr. Thanks to clockworkgraystairs and fantasyfox101 for reading this over, and reassuring me to post. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Cardan's fingers skim my side, the warmth of them seeping through the thin material that is my top. It's a well practiced move between the two of us now. From the corner of my eye, I can see the corner of his mouth twitch and I know it's because he knows I'm watching him.

It's a sort of game between us.

It's the sort of thing I would have never allowed myself to imagine before, but it's also something I can't imagine I would have wanted to—

"You do realize you're carrying on an entire conversation in your head, don't you?" His voice is soft and it hangs between us as his fingers continue to move. "Incredibly rude of you, Jude." Under his breath, I hear the remark that it had rhymed, and I roll my eyes. "It's also rather rude to roll your eyes at your husband."

It's hard—nearly impossible, really—to accept that this is where we are now. Knowing that he's my husband, and I am his wife—

There's something so impossible about all of it. As though I am not meant to have this, but I do. And I know that Cardan understands the thought, even if we've never discussed it.

"You're still carrying on," he murmurs. Cardan bends his head down, arm wrapping around my waist so he can tug me closer. His body is warm against mine, and his touch returns—his fingers climbing the ladder of my ribs through the top I've stolen from him.

The hem of it rests against my thighs, and his eyes drop to that exact spot before they connect with mine. "What do you have to say for yourself?" As ever, Cardan manages to sound effortlessly arrogant, and somehow my first thought is of love.

"You've always known I was rude," I remark, and reach up to push his hair from his face. It's silky as it slides against my skin, and Cardan leaves into me. When his lips brush the inside of my palm, they're warm.

But this is still Cardan, so I am not surprised when he gives the middle of my palm a sharp nip.

"Ah, yes," comes the low drawling voice that sends a shiver down my spine. "It was your rudeness I fell in love with."

From a distance, one of the guards laughs, and tries to cover it with a cough.

"I thought it was the way I held a knife to your throat." I swallow, and cut my eyes toward the guards that have followed us to the rooftop. "Send them away."

He arches a brow. "Whoever will protect me?"

I laugh, and tilt my face up toward his. "Me, obviously. Have you forgotten—"

Cardan presses his mouth to mine, effectively cutting me off and it's not until his hand inches up my thigh that I manage to pull away. "I meant—" His face is flushed, his lips already swollen slightly, and I'm reminded of the sight of him at Locke's that night.

He's staring at me in the exact way he had that night too.

"Who will protect me from _you_?"

I don't tell him that the guards would be unlikely to do so and it's not because he's not beloved now. The palace guards know, however, that I would never _kill_ Cardan. I might maim him. He's immortal. I could roll him off the roof and he would be fine.

"The way you're taking so long to deny that you would hurt me is absolutely terrifying."

A smile curves my mouth, and it probably doesn't help matters.

"I can't believe I'm attracted to you, sometimes." It's said in mirth, and his fingers tighten on my hip. "It's ridiculous how a little murderess turns me on so much."

My laugh is much closer to a snort. With the curve of my body pulled flush against his, Cardan waves his hand and sends the guards away. "Are you going to tell me why you've brought me up here?" My legs dangle over the edge of the roof, my heels meeting the solid surface, and when I lean forward, I can see how Cardan's legs are longer than mine.

And when I lean forward, his entire body tenses. It seems that neither of us are quite able to shake the fears that follow us. I dream of cutting off the serpent's head and never seeing Cardan again. Sometimes, I wake and reach across the bed for him, throwing my hand out blindly. Once, I struck him in the mouth, and he called me a beautiful savage for a week. Once, he wasn't there at all, and I had fled the room in a panic.

As far as I know, Cardan's only dreamed of my fall from the rafters a few times. If it's happened more than that, he hasn't told me, and I'm not going to push.

"Stars will fall tonight," his breath slides past the shell of my ear. "Your sister sent a letter. If she hadn't told me she would be sure to claim credit the next time she saw you, I would have taken all of the credit for myself."

That sounds like him. "Vivi?" I'm sure it can't have been Taryn. Taryn, who my relationship with is still strained at times, and Taryn, who's busy with a newborn.

Cardan nods and as his lips part, a flash of light streaks across the sky.

Then another, and another, and then there are so many that I cannot possibly keep track.

In Faerieland, it's past midnight, and the courtyard is typically filled. But tonight, we're completely alone, and he must see that question on my face.

"For you," he murmurs. "This is the best view in Elfhame," Cardan brushes his mouth against the top of my hair. "It's yours. All of it."

My heart seizes in my chest when he peers down at me with kohl rimmed eyes, and I'm able to watch his face soften in a way that's reserved only for me. "You're not talking about the view."

His finger curls beneath my chin and he tilts my head up. "Of course I'm not." Cardan's lips slant over mine again as stars shoot across the sky, and they have nothing to do with the way light explodes behind my lids.

We lean backward on the roof, his arm circling my waist and I can taste his smile when I straddle his hips. Cardan lays beneath me, hands running up my legs, and dipping slightly beneath his shirt. Just as quickly as I think he's going to tug it over my head though, he pushes me gently until I'm laying on my back beside him.

"After," he murmurs. "Watch."

Perhaps no one will ever know, but High King Cardan is a romantic, and apparently, my sister sent him a letter just to tell him how I loved shooting stars.

Cardan laces his fingers through mine, and brings our joined hands to rest above his heart.

"In the human world, it's tradition to make wishes on shooting stars."

He glances down at me while running his thumb across my knuckles. "I have nothing to wish for, Jude."

"Really?"

"I suppose there is a bottle of wine" —my eyes narrow— "Jude, I'm _joking_. Do you have anything you'd like to wish for?"

At the moment, I can't think of anything so I kiss him instead as starlight explodes above us.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think!


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